


Christmas Surprise

by 1lostone



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kidfic, M/M, Mpreg, Off-screen mPreg, POV Judith, POV Outsider, RWG Secret Santa 2018, Rickyl Writers' Group, Seriously A LOT of Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 11:16:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17263262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: Judith just has one, tiiiiiiiiny thing that she doesn't understand.





	Christmas Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pumpkinnight120](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pumpkinnight120/gifts).



> Pumpkin! Sorry for the lateness of this fic. I was a last minute pinch-hit, but I tried to get in everything you asked for! <3

Judith Grimes, from the ripe old age of ten years old, was an old hand at this ‘Night Before Christmas’ gig. She understood why the cookies had to be baked at the perfect temperature, and why her dad insisted on frosting them so that they looked like tiny, little, perfect snowflakes.  The milk wasn’t actual cow milk (Judith’s other dad, Daryl, was lactose intolerant, and so they didn’t buy cow milk much anymore. Of course, why this was left out when  _ Santa _  wasn’t . . . presumably. . . lactose intolerant was kind of a mystery, but whatever.), but Judith wasn’t gonna take the chance of not giving Santa  _ anything _  because all that work deserved a tasty treat.

She and Carl were currently chopping up celery and carrots for the reindeer. Well, Carl was chopping. Judith was mostly just arranging it neatly on a little plate and humming carols to herself.  Judith, whose vast experience through the ages of Christmas History understood how these things were supposed to go, still knew that on the rare occasion when she did have a question, she could go to Carl for any and all things to be answered.

“Hey Carl?”

“Yeah?” Carl dug in the fridge for some more carrots and turned back around, kicking the door shut with his foot.

(His hair was too long again, but Judith had saw Enid running her fingers through it and she and Carl seemed to kiss like, a really unhealthy amount so she supposed Enid liked it well enough.)

Judith was usually more careful when someone had a knife in their hand, but this had been bothering her for quite awhile. “Where do babies come from?”

Carl made sort of a weird sound; something like  **_?!?!_ **  (which was really bizarre because prior to this, Judith didn’t know exactly what  **_?!?!_ ** sounded like) and both knife and carrot went flying off the cutting board (both fortunately towards the sink and not Judith or her brother) as he whirled to stare at his little sister with wide eyes.

“Uhhh.”  Carl gulped. “Uhhmm. . .”

Judith picked up the knife and the carrot and handed both of them back to Carl, who took them absently.  She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, and folded her arms. The blinking speed of Rudolph’s shiny nose on her christmas sweater intensified as she waited, as though waiting for her big brother to answer. She even tapped her foot for the full effect.

“Look. I’m not stupid. I know that when Daddies love each other very much, sometimes if they’re really, really lucky, a baby will appear at midnight in a crib, but like. . . how? Where does the baby come from? How does the baby know which room to go to? And for that matter, where does the  _ crib _  come from?”

Carl coughed. “Hey we should get these snacks out there for the reindeer. Daryl should be done with the stockings by now, and Dad will have locked up and we gotta get to sleep like, super fast or Santa won’t come.”

Judith gave Carl the hairy eyeball. She knew an avoided question when she heard one. Still, she would roll with it, observe everything around her (Daryl taught her that) and make an informed decision when she knew everything (Dad taught her that).

Carl washed off the knife and the cutting board, and the two of them brought the plates out. One of her dads had put the ziptop bags Judith had decorated earlier on, and Carl put the snacks inside, and rearranged them on the plate, so that Santa could grab ‘em and go.

Carl blew out the candle, and banked the fireplace, and Judith started up the stairs. She heard her dads talking quietly in their bedroom, and heard Carl’s steady steps behind her, and felt pretty content with her world.

Exceeeeept.

Except for that one, niggling question. It niggled when she brushed her teeth, and it niggled when she washed her face. It especially niggled when she changed into her jammies. It niggled even more intensely when she climbed into bed, and she almost asked her dads when they came in to tuck her in and read her her story ( _ The Night Before Christmas, _  obviously) but managed to restrain herself.

See. Strictly speaking, she wasn’t supposed to have heard the conversation. Which put her in a bit of a pickle.

Judith stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling and thought hard. She could text Michonne, or Carol- but they were probably busy with their own families and besides, she’d see them tomorrow for dinner. As an absolute last resort, she could do that.   

_ Ugh! _

She shouldn’t have been snooping. That was the main issue here. She couldn’t just go ask dad and Daryl, because they’d want to know how she knew. And she couldn’t tell them how she knew without actually. . . revealing that she’d been snooping in the presents.

Nope.

Carl was her only hope.

Judith went ahead and set her alarm for two hours from now. That would give her time for everyone to go to sleep so she could manage to make it to Carl’s room without any. . . mishaps.

This plan was foolproof. No way could it go wrong. She was a tactical genius. Carl would be sleepy and he tended to say stupid things when he was sleepy, so he’d probably just go ahead and blurt out her answer without thinking about it.

Satisfied, Judith stuck the phone under her pillow, and went ahead and drifted to sleep.

* * *

 

“Judith!  Good Morning, baby girl. It’s Christmas!”

“ **_ARGH_ ** !!!”

Her dad raised an eyebrow at her angry shout. “Come on then, or Daryl’s gonna open all the presents.” He turned and started to go back down the stairs.

“I mean. . .  **_AHHHHHH!_ ** !!!” Judith squealed and clapped her hands, surreptitiously checking her phone as her dad walked off. The alarm was still blinking. . . but her sound was off.

Curses.

Muttering very filthy words very, very, very softly under her breath so that her dad couldn’t possibly hear her, Judith followed downstairs.

Carl handed her a santa hat and swung her up into a hug.  Judith loved her brother’s hugs. He wasn’t home much anymore, having gone to way way far away to college to study English literature and be a professional student (or so Daryl was heard to say) but his hugs were spot on.  Judith hugged him back, chivvied out of her frustration with herself at the missed opportunity to have her question answered. She put the santa hat on and assumed her spot by the tree, ready to hand out presents.

She was the last one to arrive. Daryl and her dad were snuggled on the couch, and Carl sat in the cosy chair by the fireplace. A quick, nervous glance confirmed that Santa had indeed been by. There were large boot prints leading from the fireplace over the wooden floor to the tree, and the stockings were pretty much bulging with goodies.

Relieved (some kids at school had said some stuff that of  _ course _  was nonsense, but Judith had been worried nonetheless), she kissed her dad and Daryl and sat down.

The presents were handed out, and Judith was happy that Carl immediately put the keyring she made him on his keys, as well as putting on some of the aftershave she’d saved six months of allowance to buy. Judith had been with him when he’d sniffed it, and he’d obviously quite liked it. . . and Judith had never forgotten.  Her dad and Daryl had a quilt for their bed that Carol had helped her make. It had all the shirts from hers and Carl’s little league teams, plus their ages and initials. Her dads had never missed either one of their games, and the quilt would look amazing on their bed.

Judith thought they were all done, when her dad reached under the couch cushion and pulled out a box about the size of her hand, wrapped carefully in green paper.

Daryl obviously didn’t expect any other gifts, but he took it with a laugh, kissing his husband softly in thanks.

“Uh. Before you open that. . .”

Daryl paused, mid-tear. He was one that normally ripped into wrapping paper like a crazy person.

“You might want to open it carefully.”

Carl, caught Judith’s gaze with his own, and they both stared hard at their parents. Judith bit her lip, trying to stifle the tiny bit of guilt.

She knew what this present was. She’d. . . accidentally... seen it in the pile under her dad’s bed, under the floorboard where he kept the really good stuff.  

Daryl through, had no idea.  He lifted the paper off the small, exquisite glass box with utmost care. The box was blue glass, opaque enough that you couldn’t see though it, even when it was held up to the light. The lid had two angels wings on it, and Judith watched as Daryl lightly ran his fingers over them. She didn’t know what they meant, but Daryl obviously did, if by the look he gave to his husband was any indication.

Man. When she fell in love, she hoped that it with was with someone who loved her half as much as Daryl loved her daddy.

Daryl opened the lid and stared down at the contents, eyes quickly filling with tears that he tried his best to blink back.  He held up the small picture. Judith heard Carl catch his breath when he saw it. She didn’t know why. It had just looked like a grey blob on another black blob to her, but the name on it, under her dad’s names. . .  _ that _  was what had sparked The Question.

**DIXON-GRIMES, BABY**

“Surprise!” Rick’s whisper caused Daryl to throw his arms around him, their mouths meeting in a kiss.

Judith sighed. From experience, she knew that once those two started kissing, it was probably best to give them some time to finish.

And as for her question?

Oh well. She could always ask later.

  
  



End file.
